


Our Faces are Many

by erda



Category: Leverage
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-06
Updated: 2009-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erda/pseuds/erda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliot thinks Alec is obnoxious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Faces are Many

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to facetofcathy for the beta.

Alec is obnoxious. It's Eliot's job to protect Alec, because, as anyone can see, Alec is hopelessly unable to protect himself. Alec's long, slender fingers won't even fold up into a proper fist. Eliot knows this, because he tried to show Alec once, wrapping his hand around Alec's hand and trying to force his fingers into the correct position for punching, and Alec whined like a baby, acting as if his hand was being crushed in a vise, until Eliot finally gave up and let go in disgust.

Alec's voice, or rather voices, drive Eliot crazy. He doesn't know which one is the real Alec, and he hates having to be in such close contact with someone he can't pin down.

Like all the other times Eliot has lost his temper, he'd planned not to. He knows Alec is just goofing around, playing with him, but he keeps doing it and doing it. The little remarks, the teasing touches and glances are offers of friendship; he knows that. Once, twice, three times, Alec makes with the fucking little gay jokes, throws his arm around Eliot flirtily, and Eliot isn't going to put up with any more shit, so he slams Alec into the wall before his neurons even have time to stop sparking over the impulse.

He leans over Alec with every ounce of his intimidating presence and practically snarls, "No more," into Alec's face.

Alec's eyes go wide and flat with terror, and he nods absurdly fast, "Yes, sir. For sure, no more, I get it." He isn't sorry to hear the little hiss of relief as he releases Alec and watches him slide a few inches down the wall before he recovers enough to stand on his own again. Alec is a wise guy, and he deserves it.

After that, Alec is careful around him. He doesn't joke around, doesn't pull his chair up close at the conference table anymore. He talks to Eliot in his best white person voice, stays on business only, treats Eliot with respect. He's more obnoxious than ever, and Eliot just wants to punch him. Or something.

They're waiting for Mr. Bradley C. Darrens to leave his office so Alec can hook some complicated shit up to the man's computer system. Eliot hadn't wanted to come along, but Nathan had insisted. Just in case something went wrong, Eliot had to be there to keep the kiddies safe. Parker is sprawled in the back seat waiting to pick whatever locks need picking to get them in, and she and Alec are having a great time acting like fools together, egging each other on. Eliot's the only one watching for Darrens, 'cause he's the only grown-up in the car.

Alec's voice goes into that deep ghetto accent that is half play, half mocking, a sardonic dig at white expectations that always pisses Eliot off. Parker laughs too loudly in the small space of the car.

Alec turns around to face Parker, his hand draped casually over the back of the seat. Eliot has to look at Alec's fingers again, long and slender, the nails carefully groomed. Alec probably goes to a professional manicurist or something, spends a fortune on his fucking nails, just another layer of lies. Parker puts her hand over Alec's for a second. Her nails are ragged and chewed down almost as far as Eliot's, but Parker doesn't seem to notice, no doubt wouldn't care if she did notice. Eliot stuffs his blunt fingered hands into his cold scratchy jacket pockets and looks away.

The most obnoxious thing about Alec is the way everything he says, everything he does, is a cover for something else. Eliot doesn't get that. Eliot is just there, all the time. He just is, and Alec's smooth bullshit rankles him. He can't count on Alec because nothing about Alec is real. That's why his hands are clenched in his pockets. That's why he wants to punch Alec in the face, punch right through all the bullshit and touch the pain. That's why he thinks all the time about the way it felt to push Alec up against the wall.

Eliot stays by the door keeping watch over the hallway and the room at the same time. There's nothing to watch in the room except Alec's shiny neck bent over Darrens' computer. Parker flits around the room silently, picks up a tiny little desktop billiard set and pockets it with a private smile. Alec's skin is always glowing. Eliot had to roust him out of bed once, but even straight from bed, bleary eyed and confused, his skin wasn't ashy at all, and what the fuck kind of expensive moisturizer works that well?

Alec finishes whatever he's doing to Darrens' computer, but he moves out way too slowly to suit Eliot, which is why he grabs onto Alec's wrist and hustles him along. Alec gets tense when Eliot touches him, but he comes along willingly, steps up his pace when Eliot tugs on him, lets Eliot guide him all the way back to the car. He looks confused, rubs his wrist unnecessarily when Eliot lets go, because Eliot is sure he wasn't gripping hard enough to hurt, but he doesn't say anything. Parker tumbles into the back seat again, and they make a clean retreat. Mission accomplished.

When Eliot glances over to make sure Alec has his seatbelt on, Alec rubs his wrist again and drops his gaze. It makes Eliot mad when Alec acts like such a fucking wuss.

Alec gets ahead of him when they go into the restaurant where they're meeting the rest of the group, and when Eliot tries to sit down next to him, he slides so far away he ends up pressed tight against Nathan, who gives him a fake come hither look. "I didn't know you felt that way about me," Nathan says jokingly and Alec puts his head on Nathan's shoulder for a second and bats his eyes, before straightening up with a grin.

"Better not go there, Nate," Alec says, but he isn't looking at Nate; he's staring at Eliot. "Eliot doesn't appreciate the gay life," Alec continues, and there's a hard edge under the words; the bastard is brave when he's got Nate behind him.

Nate's looking back and forth, smirking and trying to figure them out. He polishes off his drink. "That so?" he asks Alec, or maybe he's talking to Eliot; it's hard to tell.

"No way," Alec says, " Eliot has him some homophobic ideas about the gay lifestyle."

Nate finds that hilarious, laughs outright, but before Eliot can react, Nate turns around and sees Sophie coming into the restaurant, and he slides out the other side of the booth and goes to meet her.

"I'm not a fucking homophobe," Eliot says, and has to squeeze his throat down to get that out without yelling it. "I just don't think you're as funny as you think you are."

"Okay, sure," Alec says, fake conciliatory.

"So fucking obnoxious," Eliot says under his breath, but then Sophie is there with Nate, and everyone is crowding around, ignoring his scowl as if it's his normal expression. Fuckers.

He doesn't say a word through dinner. The conversation bounces around randomly, everyone except him talking at once and nobody listening very closely. Alec keeps sneaking little sneaky looks at him, scared of him or something. Parker is the first to leave, and Sophie and Nate are next. Alec slips out of the booth right behind Nate, trying to use Nate as a bodyguard, like Eliot is a psychotic stalker on his tail or some such nonsense, and it's just irritating enough that Eliot follows right up on Alec's nervous little ass. Outside, Alec looks like he intends to follow Nate and Sophie into their cab, but Nate turns around in his face and gives him a look, annoyed and amused at the same time. "Why don't you and Eliot grab the next one, buddy," he says, orders, and hops into the cab behind Sophie, slamming the door in Alec's face and giving him a jaunty little wave.

Alec's left standing in the gutter, one hand up in protest, feet planted wide in the defensive posture Eliot taught him. It would be pathetic if it weren't so obnoxious.

"What are you so scared of?" Eliot asks, and Alec jumps like a startled rabbit before a lion. Okay, he knows his voice had come out in a growl, but Alec is provoking the hell out of him, all carefully groomed and clean smelling, freshly shaved and slender and clever and everything else Eliot isn't.

Alec turns around, and then he leans, actually sways toward Eliot like he's caught on a line, and Eliot can't do anything except grab onto him, Alec's little bird-wrist engulfed in his hand, and pull him down the street into the alley beside the restaurant, Alec fluttering along helplessly. He could hit Eliot with his free arm, but he doesn't even try it. They both know he'd only hurt his skinny little hand. Eliot pulls him in against his chest, licks at his mouth. Alec goes soft and pliant, just lets him take over his mouth, and it gentles Eliot, knowing that Alec will let him do this, gives him the space to slow down, suck and lick at Alec's perfectly smooth lips like he's wanted to for hours.

Alec groans. He sounds so helpless, so undone, and he's gone so weak in the knees that Eliot is practically supporting all his weight. It makes his stomach flip over the way Alec just goes along with him, makes him crazy with the need to protect Alec. He only needs one arm to hold Alec up, which frees the other one to open Alec's jeans, slip his broad, blunt fingers under the elastic of Alec's underwear and grab onto Alec's cock, which is smooth and clean and perfect just like the rest of him.

Alec grunts as Eliot jerks him off right there in the darkened alleyway, jerking his hips into Eliot's fist, letting Eliot press his chapped, roughened lips to his beautiful mouth. Eliot is completely dressed and Alec almost so, but it's the hottest thing Eliot has ever done anyway. "Come on, Alec," he says. He likes to think the little whimpering noise Alec makes is because it's the first time he's called him Alec out loud. "Come on, come on," he urges. He leans over Alec, nuzzling against his neck in gentle contrast to the rough pulls he's giving to his cock. "Give it up for me, Alec."

"Uh, Eliot," Alec says, and Eliot speeds up his hand, preening at the way he's rendered Alec inarticulate and the way Alec spills come over his callused hand, not even capable of words anymore, giving him gorgeous little grunts of pleasure. He keeps holding on as Alec jerks and trembles in his arms, doesn't let go after he is finally quiet and able to stand up on his own again.

"You going to punch me now?" Alec says, and he sounds worried or at least confused, and that is so absurd that Eliot will just have to keep kissing him until he gets the message.


End file.
